


When the Strings Attach

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Barebacking, Bathroom Sex, Booty Calls, College Student Derek, College Student Stiles, From Sex to Love, Fuckbuddies, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Miscommunication, Pining Derek, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Smut, Stiles is Not a Virgin, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Way more feels than I meant for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles were fuckbuddies until they weren't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Strings Attach

Derek and Stiles both sucked at relationships; that was a simple known fact. Derek was emotionally unavailable and Stiles, well he just liked a good fuck with absolutely no strings attached. The two met at a bar, both being hit on by separate people who were all too eager to get into their pants. Stiles would have gone home with the man who had been grinding on him all night but when he went to the bathroom, a whole other specimen awaited him, one with a well-endowed cock. He hadn’t meant to stare but something of that size was difficult not to look at, especially when it was right next to him, seeming to grow harder under his gaze. 

Rumor has it that some werewolves could knot their partners, the base of their cocks swelling until they were locked together, unable to thrust out any further. Stiles always thought that idea was hot; the idea of having someone stretch his hole and lock up inside of him so that he had no choice but to feel their hot cum spurt into his hole. Sadly, rumor also has it that most werewolves could only do it with their mates, the ones they were supposed to be with forever. Stiles didn’t want a boyfriend, much less someone he would be tied to for life. Truth be told, he was pretty satisfied with the fucks he was getting and there were always knotting dildos at sex stores if he ever got too curious. 

Derek must have noticed him staring because he looked over with a raised eyebrow, eyes drifting down to Stiles’ own hardening cock. Stiles was already horny as fuck so he offered his hand, literally. He loved fucking werewolves, the animalistic need inside them made them rough and had Stiles’ thighs quaking and knees threatening to give out on him each time. So one thing led to the next and they found themselves in a bathroom stall, Stiles pressed up against the door and Derek fucking his cock into his tight hole. The sounds the two of them made were obscene, not that either of them really cared. All Stiles could focus on was the stranger’s fat length thrusting into him, jabbing at his prostate until he came harder than he had ever experienced. 

They didn’t say another word to each other after that, just yanked up their pants and exited the bathroom as if nothing had happened. Stiles was perfectly content with never seeing the man again, although he fucked like a god. He really wasn’t betting on ever seeing Derek again, especially since he never got a name but the next weekend, there he was, sitting in a booth with a beer in hand. Stiles caught his eye and gestured toward the bathroom already hard as fuck in his tight jeans. He didn’t even bother to check if the man was following or not. By the time he reached the stall, he could hear the heavy breathing behind him and turned around to meet the stranger’s wet, hot mouth. 

Somewhere in between the hot make-out session, they had both managed to get their pants down to their knees. Two wet fingers pumped into Stiles’ greedy hole like it was nothing. The third added the stretch that Stiles loved. Derek always took too much time prepping Stiles, teasing his hole while he fucked his mouth with his tongue. Stiles was fine with it the first time but he needed something in him,  _ like now _ . 

“Fuck me,” he growled against the stranger’s mouth. “Hurry up and get inside of me!” 

Derek growled back, slipping his fingers out of Stiles’ needy hole. Stiles let out a pathetic whimper, wanting something back inside of him. The sound of a condom ripping echoed in his ear and then finally, Derek’s hard length fucked inside of him in one quick thrust. 

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, gripping onto the stall door like his life depended on it. “Fuck yes! Just like that!” 

Derek’s thrusts were hard and quick just like they both needed. These bathroom fucks weren’t about anything other than completion. It was like they were racing each other to their release, Derek thrusting forward as Stiles threw his ass back into it. His trembling hand reached for his own cock, giving it a few sluggish tugs, trying to build a rhythm. 

“Yes!” he shrieked again when Derek slammed into his prostate in one particularly hard thrust. “Oh God, do that again. Please, do that again!” 

Derek listened well and gripped onto Stiles’ skinny hips to give him leverage. A few more thrusts like that and Stiles was gone, mouth open in an inarticulate cry. His thighs trembled furiously and the only thing that held him up was Derek, having moved one of his hands to rest against Stiles’ stomach to keep him from face planting on the dirty tile. Derek only lasted a few seconds more and then he was coming too. Stiles wished he could feel the man come inside of him, a weird desire of his but he knew werewolves couldn’t contract diseases and he was clean, tested every six months just to be safe. He wanted the feeling of warmth in his core and sadly, the condom was preventing that. 

After his orgasm died down, Derek slowly pulled out of the other man, leaving him whimper just barely under his breath. Stiles panted against the door for a few seconds more before he turned around, dragging his boxers and jeans back over his butt. 

“Thanks,” he told the man in front of him. “You’re real fucking good at that.” 

Derek smirked like he was well aware of how good he was with his cock. 

“So yeah, next week?” Stiles inquired. The only reason he asked was because there were no strings attached to this. It was simple, meet at the bar, get each other off in the bathroom while rock music played over the speakers and then repeat. The less they knew about each other, the easier it would be but Stiles figured he should know the name of the guy who blew his mind twice now. 

“What should I scream out next time you make me come like that, big boy?” he questioned, tracing a finger down his neckline and slightly into his shirt. 

“D-Derek,” the man stuttered, shivering under the touch. 

“Derek,” Stiles repeated, letting his tongue feel the name out. He’d be screaming it a whole lot if they continued whatever this was. “Nice, I’m Stiles. See you next week.” 

He didn’t wait for Derek to respond before exiting the stall and then the bathroom. 

They went on like that for a while and then moved to one of their cars and when that got old, Stiles invited him over to his apartment, figuring a bed would be nice on his back and after multiple fucks, they both were aware that it didn’t mean anything. Even on the bed, they never fucked face to face, always with Stiles on his hands and knees or flat on his stomach with Derek pounding into him from the back. It felt easier that way, never having to look into each other’s eyes as they came or when Stiles let unfiltered sentences escape his lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, Derek! Fuck me, fuck my hole open! That’s it, big boy. Stretch me wide open with your hard cock.” His filter stopped working after the first few times. Something about the way Derek took him made it incredibly hard for Stiles to stop those sentence from spilling out. 

One night, Derek texted Stiles to meet him at his loft, the usual booty call that Stiles looked forward to. They sucked each other off for the first couple of hours, slowly bringing each other toward their climaxes like they were trying to torture each other. The first time Stiles took Derek into his mouth was like heaven on earth. The slight bitter taste of his precum mixed with the sinful feel of his length sliding in and out of his mouth was almost enough to make him come untouched. He had never liked blowing someone more than Derek. He liked the way the man moaned and came apart under his mouth. 

They screwed face to face the next time. Neither of them had meant for it to end up that way, not really. They had just been kissing and they were already naked so when Derek lubed up and slipped inside, way slower than normal, Stiles couldn’t find the words or the energy to move so they weren’t looking into each other’s eyes. So they remained like that, with Derek gently thrusting in and out despite Stiles’ pleas to go harder. He could tell Derek was trying to make him lose his mind and he was definitely succeeding. 

“Please,” he whimpered, “I need-” 

Derek leaned down and kissed him, cutting off his desperate please. He could feel him, hot and hard inside despite the condom, gradually picking up the pace like he needed. Stiles kissed back, unable to do anything but that simple, practiced movement. 

“I’ve got you,” Derek whispered, pulling back just an inch. His hand slithered down in between their bellies and told hold of Stiles’ cock, gently running his lithe fingers over the heated skin. Having another hand there sent a strange and unfamiliar jolt through his body. Stiles usually got himself off during sex, knowing exactly how he liked it, what would send him over the edge the fastest. He almost told Derek to stop, caught off guard but the overwhelming sensation. During their meet-ups, Derek focused on his finish and Stiles focused on his own. The sudden switch was strange but he let it happen, realizing that Derek’s hand felt almost better than his own. His thrusts were timed with his pumping hand, thumb swiping over the tip, sometimes pressing down just enough to cause Stiles to squirm. 

“Der- I can’t,” Stiles gasped helplessly. He was already so close to the edge. 

“Come for me, love,” he hummed, thrusting forward roughly. Their movements stuttered, hearts jolting at the single word that left Derek’s mouth. 

_ Love.  _

But then, Stiles was coming, unable to hold himself back any longer despite his confusion. He let Derek pump him into utter oblivion, writhing underneath his warm body, gripping onto his shoulders just so he could hold onto something as the intensity of his orgasm washed through his body. Stiles downright missed Derek’s orgasm wracking through his body until he felt the man collapse onto his chest, breathing heavily. Their wet chests slid against each other, skin against skin and Stiles had never thought it to feel more intimate than it did in that instant. 

He got up to shower after Derek slid off of him. Normally, he would have just thrown his clothes back on and given Derek a tap on the ass as praise for the good job before he left but he was sticky with sweat and cum from their lengthy time together and desperately wanted to be clean. By the time he stepped into the water, he was trembling faintly and it wasn’t the kind of shaking he normally experienced after a good fuck. This was a nervous shake, an uncertain feeling that coursed through his body. 

Derek and him were not destined to be anything more than fuckbuddies. That had been clearly established in the beginning but it had been well over a few months of weekly fuck sessions. Those kinds of thoughts has crossed Stiles’ mind more than once but he never dwelled on them. Derek was hot, like model hot and if he was a different person, one who actually wanted to date and fall in love, he might have actually acted on it, however, Stiles wasn't that person; he was just a guy who liked meaningless sex. If Derek craved more, he'd need to look elsewhere. 

Derek was in his kitchen when Stiles came out, dressed in the clothes his came in and toweling his hair dry. He looked up from his phone and grinned at Stiles which made his heart flutter dramatically. The urge to leave was growing stronger every passing moment. Part of him wished that they could go back to the first few times, rough and quick with no lingering touches or soft whispers. He hated that small feeling in his mind that desired more. He blamed it on Derek’s cock, drunk off of it like a whore. 

“Do you want to stay for some coffee?” Derek asked when Stiles didn't move toward the door. 

“No,” Stiles said immediately and watched Derek's face drop looking hurt. “I mean, maybe just a cup,” he backpedaled, remembering he had a psych test in the morning that he still needed to study for and coffee was the only thing that would keep him awake. 

Derek smiled softly and got up to grab Stiles a cup. They sat around on his table for longer than either intended. By the time Stiles looked at his watch, it was well past three in the morning. They had talked like they were old friends, laughing at stupid things and learning facts about each other that they wouldn’t otherwise have known. 

“I should head home,” Stiles announced, mildly regretfully. He was actually enjoying his time with Derek and that was scaring him.

Derek took a look at the clock and blinked in shock. “Shit, yeah. I didn’t realize how late it was.” 

“Thanks for the coffee, Derek.” Stiles grabbed his stuff and headed for the door. Derek followed him, opening it for him to step out. Stiles turned back for half a second to wave goodbye and met Derek’s lips that were overly close to his face. Neither of them seemed to expect it but they didn’t pull apart. It wasn’t like their pre-fuck kisses; this one was softer and sweeter. 

Derek was the first one to pull back, resting his forehead against Stiles’ for a short moment. “S-sorry.” 

Stiles’ face blushed without his consent. He didn’t know how to respond, like his tongue was tied in a knot. Finally, he found some words and they were worse than the silence between them. “Thanks again, you know, good job.” He shot him an awkward thumbs up before quickly excusing himself in embarrassment, rushing out of the apartment before Derek could look at him funny. 

That entire night after Derek dropped the nickname on him and kissed him, Stiles was consumed with strange thoughts, unwanted ones that he tried to ignore. He wasn't falling for Derek. They hardly knew each other. Physically, Stiles could recite every dimple, freckle, curve and mole on Derek's body without looking but that wasn’t necessarily romantic. 

When Stiles decided to answer one of the many texts from Derek that he had been ignoring, he was way too wasted for his own good and particularly horny, having failed to get off to any type of porn which was unheard of. Apparently his body wanted Derek, so Derek it received. 

The man arrived at his door after texting him back and letting him know he was on his way. His exact text was supposed to say something along the lines of:  _ I need you inside of me now  _ but instead, he only managed to type out:  _ I need you now _ which could be taken multiple ways. 

“Hey,” Derek greeted, closing the door behind him when Stiles stumbled out of the way. Derek caught him by the elbow, steadying him gently so that he didn’t collapse. “Are you drunk?” 

Stiles laughed. “Fuck yeah, I am.” 

Derek’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this right now.” 

Stiles shook his head and leaned against the wolf. He needed to distract himself from his thoughts. He needed Derek to take him from behind and just say dirty things in his ear and make him hurt just a little. Brutally rough Derek was the man he desperately wanted in this moment, too drunk to be able to control himself if Derek tried to go all sweet on him again. 

“Look, Stiles,” Derek began. 

“N-no,” Stiles stuttered, one hand snaking under Derek’s shirt. “I need you, please. Inside of me, just here,” he offered, tugging down his bottoms for Derek. His eyes grew wide like he hadn’t experienced Stiles getting naked in front of him before. “You can just bend me over the table, hmm? Just shove it in me?” 

“Stiles, you’re drunk,” he insisted calmly. “We aren’t going to do this when you’re drunk.” 

“Why the fuck not?” he growled in annoyance. “Just do it, Derek. 

Derek shook his head. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. If you still want me to bend you over the table in the morning, I will do so gladly.” 

Stiles whimpered but let Derek pulled his sweats back up and handle him into the bedroom. Fuck, why was he so drunk that he couldn’t handle himself properly? It was a dumb idea to tell Derek to come over; it was like a free invitation for him to take care of Stiles like a real relationship. Fuckbuddies didn’t help each other into bed and pull the covers over their shivering bodies. 

“Can I stay?” Derek whispered even though Stiles was drifting off already. The warmth of the blanket and the soft pillows underneath his head were lulling him into a deep sleep. He should have said no, although Derek still would have stayed to make sure Stiles didn’t throw up in his sleep and suffocate. If he was being honest, he wanted Derek’s body heat next to him, his smell to calm him and his hands to touch him. 

_ Drunk thoughts,  _ Stiles noted to himself. 

He ended up nodding, shifting over onto his side to face away from Derek as he crawled into the bed. Derek turned off the lights, sending the room into darkness and then Stiles slept, only partially aware of the warm body that spooned him from behind as he slipped deeper into his drunken slumber.

 

* * *

 

Waking up didn’t hurt nearly as much as he thought it would. His head ached just barely but other than that, he seemed fine. Apparently all of the years of drinking helped him build up a tolerance for it. He shifted with stiff bones to find Derek, still peacefully asleep beside him. Never had they slept together, like actually slept together in the same bed and it made Stiles’ heart skip. A groan escaped his lips feeling Derek’s morning wood pressed up against his butt. He was somewhat hard himself too. 

“Mornin’” Derek whispered, stretching his limbs after Stiles’ groan woke him from his light sleep. 

Stiles waved behind him awkwardly. 

“Still want me to fuck you over your table?” he asked huskily, causing Stiles to blush when he remembered asking Derek to do exactly that. It shouldn’t have made him feel shy; they had fucked on stranger surfaces before but something about the proposition was different now that he was sober and the fact that Derek had slept over. 

But they were fuckbuddies, it was what they did. He couldn’t lead on to the fact that Derek sleeping over to make sure his drunk ass was fine changed anything between them. Derek already had some preconceived idea about them floating around up there, there was no need to add more. 

“You think I could just ride you?” Stiles responded seductively, attempting to play it like it wasn’t a big deal. He did want to get rid of his persistent erection and it was a good way to reestablish that this was why they were still talking, because they could get each other off in a pleasurable way, that was it. Not some fluffy, make love to one another shit. 

Derek shrugged playfully. “Whatever you wanna do, just grab the lube.” 

Stiles nodded and rolled onto his opposite side to grab the lube which sat in the drawer of his nightstand. He handed it off to Derek and yanked off his sweats, gracefully straddling Derek’s hips after he removed his own clothes. Stiles tried to focus his attention on the wall in front of him as Derek’s slick fingers breached his hole but his face was too close and too beautiful to not stare at. 

Once he was properly stretched, Derek lined his cock up with his hole and let Stiles slid down in one sharp movement. Derek seemed to falter, trying to catch Stiles’ hips when the movement seemed so fast that it'd hurt but Stiles wanted the burn that tended to come with quick sex. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, palms splayed out on Derek's chest to help him lift himself properly. With some assistance from Derek's hands on his hips, they set a quick rhythm, however, Stiles could feel the sudden difference like a particle in the air. Derek's thumbs were brushing against the flesh of his hipbone in soothing circular motions and he was staring into Stiles’ eyes like he was searching for his soul. Stiles forced himself to close his eyes to cut off the connection between them. He focused all his attention on moving up and down, rotating his hips in small circles that made Derek whimper quietly.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped. “Shit, that's good.” 

They were both there, on the very edge of coming when Stiles remembered he hadn't given Derek a condom. Derek was inside of him with no barriers for the first time and Stiles couldn't find a reason to object. He just rode harder and faster, ignoring the persistent burning sensation that occurred every time he lifted up. 

A few minutes later, after taking his red, angry cock in his hand and jerking a couple of times, he came, thighs tightening furiously. Derek came seconds later, spurting his warmth inside of Stiles. His short, sharp thrusts flattered for half a second when he seemed to realize there was nothing stopping his cum from entering Stiles’ body. 

“S-Stiles?” 

“It's okay,” he breathed out in an attempt to calm the man. It wasn't like it mattered anymore. Neither of them had tried to stop it from happening. “You're clean, I'm clean, it's fine.”

“Stiles,” he whined back again, tightening his grip on his hips. He was about to repeat himself when he noticed the desperation in his voice and the fact that he looked close to tears. “D-don't move.” 

“Fuck, dude. Are you crying?” Stiles panted harshly. Realization hit and Derek was indeed on the verge of tears. Stiles tried to slip off despite his warning only to find he couldn't. His movement caused a tight burning sensation on the rim of his hole. It took him half a second more to realize what was happening, to recognize the feeling inside of him, the one he had always been curious about. But now, it sent his heart on a frantic trip down to his stomach. That was why every time he slid up and down on Derek's cock, his hole burned slightly more. Derek's fucking knot had been swelling and catching each time.

“Did you just-” Stiles couldn't find the words. “Is that-” 

“Fuck! Oh God, I'm sorry!” Derek blubbered, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. Stiles tried to let up on the vice like grip he was causing around the knot in a panic. 

“Der,” Stiles tried again after taking a few deep breathes, “did you knot me?” 

Derek looked awestruck in horror but he nodded. “Jesus, I'm so sorry, Stiles. I didn't mean for it to happen.” 

“Okay,” he replied nervously. “I need you to answer my next question honestly, alright? What does this mean?” 

“I-I, Stiles?” 

Derek was panicking and if Stiles joined him, they'd both be a mess so he forced himself to remain calm and ignore his full he suddenly felt, how fucking right it felt to have Derek inside of him like this. Now wasn't the time. 

“Hey,” he whispered, twisting Derek's face back to the front so that he could see his eyes. “Just answer, please. I'm not going to get mad and storm off. I'm kind of stuck to you right now so it's physically impossible.” 

Derek looked even more guilty as the words left Stiles’ mouth. “It only happens with someone you really care about, the person you're supposed to be with.” 

That confirmed Stiles’ theory. “So you're saying we're like mates or whatever?” 

Derek nodded slowly. 

“Why didn't it ever happen before?” 

“We didn't like each other before,” Derek admitted kind of harshly. 

“Woah, nobody said I liked you,” Stiles replied dramatically and Derek's face expressed an unhappy look. 

“It's not a one way thing, Stiles,” he sneered. “It has to be consensual, both parties have to feel similarly. I can sense something that wasn’t there when we first started this. You’re human so it’s different but there has to be something there or I wouldn’t have, uh, knotted.” 

Stiles wished they could separate so he didn't have to look directly into Derek's beautiful face while he explained the intimacy of it all to him. There was no way he’d admit that he felt even an inkling of emotional attraction toward Derek. It would ruin everything, except everything was already pretty ruined, evident in the knot stuck in his ass. 

“So you like me?” 

“Uh, I, yeah. . .”

“Why did you say anything? Didn't we establish that rule at the beginning?” At least he thought that had. 

“I can't exactly control how I feel about you, Stiles. My wolf wanted something more the second we met, okay? I ignored it at first because I wanted exactly what I agreed to, no strings attached but I'm not usually the type of guy who fucks in bathroom stalls. I let my guard down and we’ve been doing this for months so I guess I just started feeling something for you.” 

Stiles groaned uncomfortably. “How long does it take for this thing to go away?” 

Derek blinked at him in disbelief. Stiles knew he was being rude but his mind was going a mile a minute and he truly did not want to deal with what was going on in front of him. He didn’t sign up for this; he signed up for a quick fuck every now and then. This was too much for him. 

“Like fifteen minutes,” Derek muttered, turning away from Stiles once again. Stiles immediately felt like an asshole. A few seconds later, he heard Derek whisper, just barely under his breathe, “I’m sorry.” 

Neither of them said anything and after a while, the burning sensation eased as did the stretch he felt and Derek helped him onto his side so that they could detach. Stiles had to suppress a moan when Derek slipped out, the copious amount of cum dripping out along with him. Stiles didn’t move for a little bit, feeling kind of paralyzed on the bed, the only feeling being his throbbing hole, now empty after being so full. Derek slipped out of the bed a few minutes later, tossing his clothes on in quick movements. 

“C-could we talk about this?” Derek croaked behind Stiles who kept his back to the man while he dressed. 

Stiles didn’t answer like the asshole he was. He kept his back to Derek, refusing to open his eyes until he heard Derek sigh sadly and gather his stuff before leaving through the front door which slammed shut behind him. Even then, Stiles didn’t move. If Derek was telling the truth, he knew Stiles felt something for him as much as he tried to deny it. The knotting was equally both of their faults, too stubborn to admit that months of screwing each other silly had caused them to begin to feel things they didn’t necessarily want to feel. 

It didn’t matter how Stiles felt anymore. Sending Derek out of the house like that, after something so intimate, probably meant he wasn’t going to come back. He had admitted how he felt in more than one way and Stiles rejected him. He was pathetic in all sense of the word. At twenty-two years old, Stiles had never let anyone get close enough to feel such things except for Derek. They had both crashed through each others walls without meaning to and now they were here. 

The entire next week, Stiles tried and failed to call Derek and explain himself. He didn’t know what to say other than admit the fact that he had been an asshole. There was nothing supernatural about him, telling him that Derek was the one. It was just him, fragile-bodied Stiles who got stressed over the smallest things and had a hard time making important decisions. 

Weeks went by after that when Derek never made an attempt to call him and Stiles was too much of a pussy to call him himself. He had a few one night stands just to try to get Derek out of his system but each time, he either didn’t come or he’d come from his own hand whimpering Derek’s name by accident. It was unreal, the 180 he did in the past month, going from sleeping around like a player to desiring only one person who he couldn’t have now. He stopped sleeping around after that, trying to focus on school and friends instead. 

One night he woke up with a aching erection after dreams of Derek kissing his body, whispering beautiful words into his hear and then knotting him. That same night, he tiredly called Derek without thinking and left him a message that simply said:  _ I’m sorry _ . 

Time went fast after that. Stiles graduated with his associates degree, found a nice full time job, pretended like he was a perfectly functioning adult like always but he ached for something more. Turned out, Derek had moved to New York, away from all the small town bullshit of Beacon Hills. Stiles was happy for him, wishing he could do the same himself. Staying in Beacon Hills hadn’t done much good for him from the beginning but his dad was here so he’d never leave. 

His twenty-third birthday came around and his friends urged him to go out and party, get laid since they had knew he hadn’t gotten any, well since the mystery man he had been sleeping with left. It didn’t feel right sleeping with anyone else; they weren’t able to fill that stupid aching void inside of him that Stiles could only blame on the supernatural mate thing. Instead of going out, his friends brought him cake and alcohol at his apartment to celebrate. No part of him felt like partying but he drank until his vision blurred and he was throwing up, whining for Derek who was nowhere close to him. He laughed drunkenly at himself for that. He had gone from sleeping with random strangers to a typical b-movie romantic who cried over their lost love while puking their guts out. 

One of his less drunk friends had managed to get him into bed that night and it reminded him of the night everything went amiss except there was no comfort of a warm body next to him, nobody asking if they could stay to take care of him in a soft voice. There was just the darkness of Stiles’ mind and the thrumming of music playing somewhere outside his mind. 

He slept after that for what felt like a long time, drifting in and out of clouded consciousness like he was drugged rather than drunk. The music died down at some point in the night and the rest of the partygoers left, leaving the house a quiet mess. Stiles didn’t care, far too tired to even think about getting up and cleaning. Scott, his best friend for years, probably passed out on the couch after everyone else left, staying around to make sure Stiles didn’t die in his sleep. He was a good friend but it wasn’t who Stiles wanted. 

In the morning, he was woken to Scott gently nudging him awake. He blinked in an attempt to get his eyes to focus in the dimly lit room. His head hurt unlike the previous time he had gotten blackout drunk. Scott helped him sit up in bed and drink some water that had been sitting next to him, untouched, all night. 

“There’s someone in the living room waiting for you when you get up,” Scott told him with a small knowing smile.

Stiles tilted his head in confusion and felt his heart jolt with hope. He gave Scott a thumbs up to act like he was dying inside to step out of the bedroom. Scott excused himself and told Stiles to give him a call if he needed anything before he left the apartment. Stiles sat in the bed for a few more minutes unable to move, too overwhelmed with the idea of Derek sitting just outside his door. His heart clenched with raw need. He didn’t even bother to properly dress himself, just shrugged a pair of discarded sweats over his boxers and brushed his teeth before exiting the room.

Derek Hale didn’t look an ounce different even after all the passing time. He was still an undeniable form of beauty that Stiles should have taken when he had the chance. Stiles watched him for a few seconds as he examined the picture of his parents and himself as a toddler. When Derek turned, Stiles breath got caught in his throat. 

“You were cute as a kid,” he said timidly, eyes sweeping up to find Stiles. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday. I remembered it but plane tickets are kind of expensive and I didn’t have the extra cash when I needed it.” 

Stiles still couldn’t speak. 

“Uh, my friend bought me one though, you know with frequent flyer points so I’m a day late but I’m here and I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too,” Stiles choked out, searching Derek’s eyes from across the room. 

Derek shook his head. “I shouldn’t have just thrown that mate stuff in your face, it wasn’t fair to you. I know you only wanted one thing out of this relationship and I fucked that up. I’m sorry. I know it’s a long overdue apology but I just couldn’t face you afterwards. I’ve only ever knotted one other person before in my life and she died on me too soon after. I was scared and you didn’t want me like that so I had to leave. I couldn’t go through that again, my wolf couldn’t go through that again. I thought you deserved an apology and some closure and a birthday present,” he said with a nervous laugh. 

Stiles couldn’t help but smile awkwardly too. “You have nothing to apologize for, Derek. I was the asshole and you didn’t deserve any of that. I never really wanted an actual relationship until you and I tried to deny it but I couldn’t. After you knotted me, I just freaked out. I didn’t think anything like that was ever going to happen especially since we had been fucking for months before and it had never happened but when you left, I don’t know. I guess I realized I was being stupid, I let too many years go by pretending like I didn’t need anything fulfilling and then you popped up and for once, I wanted something more. I was an idiot and I’m so sorry for causing you any pain. I know you’re probably super happy in New York and you only came back so we could both have closure but Derek, I’m in love you,” he admitted softly, heart beating frantically at his confession. He hadn’t realized the words were true until he said them out loud but they were entirely true. Stiles was in love with Derek despite all his previous remarks of never wanting to be in love, of not even liking Derek. 

“Stiles?” 

“I am, I’m sorry for the horribly late timing but I am, okay? I’ve never wanted to someone’s more than I want to be yours right now. I dream about you, I get drunk and think about you, I can’t even sleep with anyone else anymore!” He cringed at the last sentence to leave his mouth noticing how unromantic that sounded. “You can still feel it right? Whatever you felt before between us is still there, isn’t it?” 

Derek bit his lower lip and nodded. “But you didn’t want me before, Stiles.” 

“I was lying to you, you fool!” he exclaimed loudly. “I was lying to myself because I’m twenty-three damn years old and I’ve never for one second thought I would fall in love with anyone so when I found you and you took care of me when I was drunk and talked to me instead of just bending me over a table like I asked, things changed.” 

The distance between the two men closed in as Derek surged forward. It took half a second before their lips were pressed harshly against each other, sharing the same neediness of months without touch. Derek’s hands found their way to Stiles’ cheek and neck holding him in place for his mouth to devour. Stiles trailed his hands up Derek’s shirt, not expecting anything for him, just needing to touch and feel the heated flesh beneath. They only pulled apart once they were out of breath and even then, their foreheads remained together, lingering. 

“I’m in love with you too, Stiles,” Derek whispered and Stiles felt near tears from relief. The two men held each other desperately refusing to let go. Nothing else mattered excepted Derek. He was here, he came back and Stiles wasn’t going to screw this up again. 

“I want you to knot me again,” Stiles whimpered moments later without fully noticing he said it aloud. “Wanna feel you again, Der.” 

“Me too,” Derek moaned into his ear. “Been too long.” 

They stumbled to the bedroom, yanking off clothes in between blissfully open mouthed kisses. Derek grabbed for the lube, knowing exactly where Stiles kept it, reaching for a condom along with it only to be stilled by Stiles’ hand. 

“N-no condom tonight,” he murmured. “I’m still clean, I promise. I always used one with the others. I just want you right now, wanna feel you inside of me.” 

Derek nodded and squeezed some lube onto his cock while his other hand slowly inserted two fingers into Stiles’ hole, pumping in and out gently. The lack of sex in the past few months had caused Stiles to forget the sensation of being penetrated and he clenched slightly at the intrusion. 

“Shh,” Derek calmed. “I’ll be gentle.” 

Stiles breathed deeply, shutting his eyes to focus on relaxing his muscles. A third finger was added at one point and Stiles squeaked, blindly reaching out for Derek’s hand. The other man held it out for him and let him tangle their fingers together while he fingered Stiles’ loosening hole. 

“Now,” Stiles moaned once pain turned back into pleasure. “Please, Der. I want you now.” 

He felt Derek’s cock line up with his hole in the next instant. His eyes opened just as the tip pushed in and he saw Derek’s concentrated face, willing himself to go slow enough to not hurt Stiles. This wasn’t one of their bathroom fucks; Stiles didn’t want it too hurt this time, didn’t want the distraction. He wanted to be solely focused on the feel of Derek’s length moving in and out of him. 

“Okay?” Derek questioned, struggling to get the two syllable word out of his mouth. 

“Y-yeah,” he replied quietly. “It’s been awhile and you’re kind of large, sorry.” 

Derek laughed . “I’ll go slow, love. Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” 

Stiles blushed, feeling like he was losing his virginity again. He tried to spread his legs, lifting them off the bed for Derek, hoping it would help him slid in easier. It seemed to do the trick as he went further inside, stretching Stiles nicely. They both let out throaty moans once the length was fully inside. 

“Good?” 

Stiles moaned in response, arching his hips upward to get Derek moving. It felt good, just the smallest burn from the stretch but nothing he had never experienced before. His body had missed Derek’s cock just as much as his soul had missed Derek. 

“There,” Stiles gasped when Derek began to move, rocking into him at an obscenely slow pace. He was hitting his prostate just soft enough to drive Stiles insane. “Just a little harder, Der. Right there.” 

Derek thrusted in as Stiles bucked up, both meeting in the middle. Derek groaned in pleasure, rocking back in again and again. 

“Thank you,” Stiles whimpered, knowing there were so many meanings behind those words. Thank you for coming back, for holding him, for kissing him, loving him despite all the dumb things he said. Derek just kissed him in response, pumping into him a little faster now. 

Attune to the sensation, Stiles felt Derek’s knot swelling and catching on his tender rim. Derek whined quietly the first time it happened, pulling back gently as not to yank the growing bulb right out. 

“Are you sure?” Derek asked, moving in short movements so that the knot didn’t catch again before Stiles could answer. “We don’t have to. I won’t be hurt if you don’t want it. I know how you feel, okay? And this is evidence enough for you about how I feel so it’s okay.” 

Stiles shook his head, hole clenching at the emptiness every time Derek pulled out too much. “Please, I want you. I’ve missed it so much, Derek. I’ve missed you, please.”

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, pushing his whole length in again along with his throbbing knot. Stiles gasped, not from pain, but from the feeling of having Derek fill him up so wonderfully. He lifted his hips, seeking a deeper stretch although Derek was already entirely in. The knot came out and popped back in until Stiles felt it swell to it’s fullness, locking inside of him. He had been so concentrated on the knot that he didn’t notice Derek tugging on his cock until he was coming, hard and fast, almost screaming from how good it felt. His hole tightened around Derek’s knot and then Derek was coming too, frantically thrusting in deeper because that was all he could do. Stiles held onto him for dear life, mewling and bucking to drag out his orgasm. 

“Oh God, Stiles,” Derek whimpered, kissing his face, leaving behind tingles every spot he pressed against. “You're so beautiful.” 

The tailend of Stiles’ orgasm finished off and he let go of the urgent grip he had on Derek's body, relaxing into the pillows. 

“Thank you for coming back, Der. I know you're going to have to go back to New York soon but I'm so glad you're here.” 

“I'm not going back,” Derek muttered back, helping adjust Stiles so that they could rest on their sides comfortably until the knot went down. 

Stiles looked into Derek's eyes in confusion. “Why not? I thought you'd love it there.” 

“It's not bad but my lease just went up, I don't have much money at the moment either. And there's one other thing,” he paused, smiling down at Stiles, “you're here.” 

Stiles couldn't hold back his touched, joyful tears so he buried his head into Derek's chest in an effort to hide. 

“You're staying?” he asked quietly, muffled by his chest. “Really?” 

Derek nodded, pressing a kiss to the other man’s forehead. “I'm going to stay, if my mate allows that?” 

The answer was so simple, the easiest thing Stiles had ever had to answer in his life because it was Derek, his mate. The answer was as simple as kissing him. 

“Yes.” 


End file.
